Part Four: The Man on the Roof

Chris assumed that he had developed a healthy case of paranoia while he was in the ICU. Paranoia was known to cause a sudden spike in the five senses, though usually directing them in the very wrong direction. Chris didn't know how else he could explain his 'symptoms'. He was starting to hear sounds that were far away, see details in the distance when he had been near-sighted for years, feel the most subtle currents in the air, and taste fine ingredients in the hospital food.

 

 

Which was intensely shocking, because the healthy meals were so bland he couldn't imagine them having much of anything.

 

His out-of-control senses could also be the effects of whatever was wrong with him. Blood tests reported that he may have some kind of illness, but the samples were either tainted in some way or destroyed during testing. The hospital had to draw more blood and re-do the tests all over again. He had to stay here even longer.

 

Chris was grateful that his aunt came to see him every day, and she brought her two young daughters with her. Eun-hee and Young-mi went all out to cheer him up and teach him a few Korean words so they could talk. Chris had to admit his cousins were endearing. He didn't see that much of his uncle since the man had to work, but he usually sent messages through his wife. Slowly Chris began to feel less awkward and embarrassed around his relatives, or at least the ones he lived with.

 

 

Enhanced senses told Chris that he may have another visitor coming to see him at the dead of night. These visits were more fleeting and random, usually taking place at night and always outside the window. During those short times Chris thought he smelled blood, different types of blood emanating from the same source, and he had no idea how he knew that the blood was (at most) a few days old. There was also another, more subtle scent hidden beneath the bloody layers that was unique to the strange visitor.

 

What am I, a bloodhound? Chris just hoped he wasn't going insane. To prove it one way or the other, he waited until nightfall and a nurse had left after checking in on him. Chris slipped out of bed and quietly left the room. He followed the scent as it moved upward, avoiding the night-shift nurses to duck into the hospital stairwell. Yellow light came in through small windows and did little to expell the darkness.

 

But Chris could see very well in the dark, almost as though it was daylight. Apparently it wasn't just his near-sightedness that had been cured, but his human ability to be blind in the dark as well. He was stiff at the joints with quiet, shaking fear.

 

So why am I doing this?

Hell, maybe I'll just turn out to be crazy. It was starting to look like the answer that was the easiest to understand.

 

 

The click of the rooftop door was shockingly loud to his ears. Chris carefully closed it shut to prevent any further noise, and jumped at a sharp, mocking laugh that sliced the air like a knife.

 

“ 'Good!'” said a low voice at his ear. It was much closer to his head than the laugh had been. “ 'You seem to be adjusting.'”

 

Of the fight-or-flight responses that humans were equipped with, Chris was certain that he was the second type. He had to be wrong if he whirled and swung a closed fist backwards, doubling his elbow so that he struck a shoulder instead of the air beside it. Chris was aware that he felt little shock when the man behind him was sent skidding across the rooftop, something his meager blow couldn't have done. The man's feet scarred its floor with jagged grooves as he went, and was stopped only when he crashed into the railing around the rooftop and wrenched it into a crooked curve.

 

“ I...am not that strong,” Chris heard himself say. His voice didn't sound attached to his body, but he knew what the words meant. He shouldn't be that strong. Was this guy playing a trick on him? But...how was that physically possible for him to do that?

 

 

“ 'Good! Good!'” The man had a deep-throated laugh. “ 'You're still feisty! At least when it comes to acting on instinct. Other than that you're still a...pansy, is that the word?'”

 

“ Jack?” Chris was confused.

 

“ 'Oh, you remember me.'” The bent railing creaked as Jack pushed himself away from it.

Remember? Chris didn't know how he came up with that name. He didn't know this man and couldn't understand what he was saying--

 

 

***

 

Red. Red. I see nothing but red.

A color that I like because it's so out there, so fearless, so unlike me.

It's a color that I'm scared of because it means something when it shows.

It's a color that's supposed to be hidden away.

Because when a lot of it shows, it means nothing good.

It means you're going to die.

 

***

A pinched knot pulled at the tissues of his brain. There was no real pain, but Chris wished that the pressure would relent or he'd never be able to concentrate on anything. It was so annoying...!

 

The hand he raised to his head drifted down. Chris touched the muscles of his neck and the cords that were suddenly hard. As they were so often nowadays, Chris felt his lips, tongue, and the insides of his mouth go dry. The thirst he'd been feeling went away after a meal, simple as that, but he always felt like the hospital fare wasn't enough. He needed more before...

 

***

 

I don't want to.

***

 

Before what?

 

“ 'And maybe not,'” Jack said. “ 'Have you drank blood yet?'”

 

Blood? “ No!” Chris threw up his head. He struggled to focus, finally seeing that the young man called Jack was a giant compared to him (and maybe everyone else for all he knew). He had long legs and hips so lean they were close to being nonexistent, scraggly black hair that reached to his shoulders, and hints of hard, flat muscle and scars hidden by his clothes. A long dark coat with a fur-trimmed hood made Jack's appearance as bizarre as it was intimidating.

 

“ 'Definitely not,'” Jack said to himself. He gave a wide, toothy grin to Chris. “ 'Well, I think you'd better. From what I hear, one drop of blood is all a real vampire needs to recover from anything'.”

 

 

“ Vampire?” Though it was pronounced 'vamp-pai-uh' Chris reeled from the word and the man. Oh, shoot. He's a nut.

 

 

“ 'Yeah. Vampire.'” Abruptly Jack surged forward and was up, up close in Chris's vision. A partly bandaged hand grabbed the boy's throat and lifted him off his feet. Still grinning, Jack opened his mouth and bared smaller but thicker fangs that slid only partly out of his upper row of teeth. Tiny dots of crimson bloomed in the irises of his eyes.

 

He threw Chris off the roof and to the next. The boy crashed into a outside generator and lit up the night with a storm of electricity. The sparks ignited a sharp explosion that tore a hole into the roof and blew Chris's body to the sky. When it came down there was nothing to except to fall through the roof's hole and crash into the floor.

 

That would kill anyone, right? At the very least Chris should have been burned and torn to pieces by the blast. Knowing better, Jack threw back his head and laughed. He couldn't wait to see Chris's reaction to see that he hadn't just survived the random act of violence, but hadn't suffered a scratch as well.